


The Ghost Of You

by Lady_Iwaizumi



Series: Iwaoi Stories [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - War, Based on a My Chemical Romance Song, Blood and Injury, Death, First Love, Fluff, Ghosts, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Oneshot, Pain, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Reconciliation, Song fic, Violence, War, do not fear the death tag im not that cruel, policeman!Iwaizumi, soldier!oikawa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-04 23:52:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12782349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Iwaizumi/pseuds/Lady_Iwaizumi
Summary: They were the same people…right?But they couldn’t be. These people weren’t real. They were dirty, frantic, panicking, covered in blood and gun powder. They weren’t Tooru’s friends anymore. They weren’t anyone but faceless soldiers in the middle of the ranks, dealing with injuries of their own, fighting against their own brothers in the worst Japanese civil war in the entire history of Japan.





	The Ghost Of You

**Author's Note:**

> Can't stol writing Iwaoi.......it's ruining me, but I.....  
> Like it.  
> Enjoy! Comments and kudos most welcomed, though I know how difficult it is giving reviews that explain what you actually think...social awkwardness, you know. Also, long live MCR

_I never said I’d lie and wait forever…_

_If I did, we’d be together now,_

_I can’t always just forget her_

_But she could try_

_At the end of the world_

_Or the last thing I see,_

_You are never coming home never coming home_

_Could I? Should I?_

_And all the things that you never ever told me,_

_And all the smiles that are never ever_

_Ever…get the feeling that you’re never_

_All alone and I remember now,_

_At the top of my lungs in my arms, she dies_

_She dies_

 

The last four years had been trying ones for everyone in Japan—the war was bloody, long, expensive, and practically useless—but there may have been one soldier whose four years of duty held more pain and scars than all of Japan put together.

His name was Oikawa Tooru, and he had been a front-line leader since the beginning of the war.

There were many horrifying effects from the war, but Japanese policeman and significant other of the soldier Iwaizumi Hajime thought that one of the worst was the change in personality of his boyfriend; Tooru wasn’t made for war. They had both known that since meeting each other early on in their lives. Oikawa was a fighter, but not _that_ kind of fighter. He was determined, passionate, willing to defend his country, but…

It was just different when guns were involved.

 

Iwaizumi knew things would be different; he underestimated just how painfully obvious Tooru’s change would be, however, so when he ran to the train station after work to meet Oikawa after the war officially ended…the sight he was met with shocked him.

Tooru was still dressed in his soldier uniform, nicely ironed and polished for appearance; he was leaning on his crutches heavily, since his knee wound was fresh, his bag hanging at his side as brown eyes desperately searched the crowd—those eyes were the first thing Iwaizumi saw, only, he had to look at them three separate times to realize they belonged to the person he was looking for.

His eyes…my god, his eyes were so lost; there was no _passion_ anymore, no fierce determination, no competitiveness, no anything, really, and it slowly inflicted a deadly disease onto Hajime’s heart, killing him more and more with each second he spent staring into those maroon hued eyes. There was a bit of relief, yes, but more than anything, the most prominent expression was sorrow. Maybe some guilt. Definitely a lot of regret…and since when did Oikawa Tooru regret anything? Iwaizumi wasn’t sure who he was running towards, but he ran as fast as he could, hoping that when he arrived, the person he wanted to embrace would be there.

 

When Hajime hugged his boyfriend, the cold air surrounding them evaporated.

 

Tooru gasped upon seeing Iwaizumi, eyes widening with a spark of emotion, and his crutches dropped to the ground when the policeman threw his toned arms around him, pulling him into a loving, longing hug they had both so wanted to feel for the past four years of their lives. All traces of that grumpy scowl on Iwaizumi’s face was gone. Oikawa’s worry dissipated for a short moment. They hugged for ten minutes, not saying anything but whispered chants of each other’s names, dead to the world around them; all the coldness, all the loneliness of the past four years plagued with war, with not knowing if they would ever meet again…for those ten minutes, all of that shit was _gone_. Tooru had made it back to him—maybe not in one piece, maybe not “all there” but…

They had lived. And they were together again.

“Oikawa…” Hajime whimpered, smiling and crying at the same time as he let his boyfriend lean against him for support, body having gone partially limp in his arms. “You’re alive…y-you’re alive…...I missed you so much!”

Tooru made a strangled noise into his shoulder, trying to hold him as close as humanly possible. They held each other for another five-minutes, just imagining all the shit they had been through together, those four years spent apart, only communicating through letters and memories…

“C-Come on.” Iwaizumi sniffled, leaning back to touch Oikawa’s still unmarked-face gently. It was only then he realized how tired his boyfriend looked. “Let’s go home.”

 

Tooru didn’t speak until later that night, after Hajime had carried him home, held him while they absentmindedly ate on the couch, just like old times when he would insist Oikawa eat something before bed. The first thing he said happened after a few precious kisses were planted on the top of his head while they were re-memorizing each detail of each other’s faces; Iwaizumi had a few new scars to share on his jaw, and while Tooru didn’t have any to show, his boyfriend could tell something was different.

“I—I _missed_ you.” Oikawa whispered as they stared into each other’s eyes. The soldier began crying harder after saying this, even though he had mumbled it numerous times already; Iwaizumi understood the tragic meaning of these repeated words and tightened his grip.

“I missed you too…more than anything.”

Tooru had yet to call him that annoying childhood nickname—Hajime was eagerly waiting for it.

“I missed being beside you…I missed touching you…I missed talking to you…I missed your voice…I missed kissing you…”

Iwaizumi leaned forward and softly pressed his lips against Oikawa’s, a tear slipping from his eye as he did so. As pleased as Tooru was to find out that the policeman’s kiss still had a dangerous effect on him, he was terrified to find that the kiss didn’t make all the bad things go away.

When Hajime pulled away after a long minute, he was confused at Oikawa’s frustrated expression; even though his eyes were closed, Iwaizumi knew the soldier well, and could tell by the tightly squeezed eyelids, the trembling of his lips, and the anger in his grip.

“Tooru…does your leg hurt?”

Oikawa nodded, believing himself to be lying, and began crying harder when he realized so.

“Let’s get you into bed, okay? Do you want some ice?”

Tooru didn’t answer, aside from bawling into Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“I’m gunna lift you up, alright? …It’s okay…don’t be ashamed, Crappykawa, it’s okay…I’ve got you. That’s a promise.”

 

Oikawa didn’t heed to his instructions. He cried so hard he could hardly breathe, even when in the safety of their bed again, wrapped up in Hajime’s arms as the policeman gently rubbed his injured knee, and that only made the excruciating pain worse, but he didn’t have the heart to tell him because he just missed him _too damn much_ , because he didn’t believe that the war was _finally over_ —

Twenty-minutes later, he fell into unconsciousness from the agonizing burning sensation of his knee.

 

_At the end of the world_

_Or the last thing I see,_

_You are never coming home never coming home_

_Could I? Should I?_

_And all the things that you never ever told me,_

_And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me_

_Never coming home, never coming home_

_Could I? Should I?_

_And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me,_

_For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me_

 

Tooru awoke to the same nightmare he had been dreaming of for the past six months of his now-miserable life.

 

Hanamaki was _screaming_ , screaming so loudly everyone was able to hear it over the guns, the bombs going off, the yells and cries of the other soldiers surrounding them; Matsukawa bolted towards the noise, causing Tooru to look over frantically, not wanting him to run straight into the line of fire in front of their line. His eyes caught sight of the bloody mess Mattsun was rushing over to behind one of the trenches they dug.

It was Hanamaki, and his left arm had been blown off right at the shoulder.

The brightest red Oikawa had ever seen was gushing out in spurts, staining Makki’s entire uniform, overpowering all the grime and gun powder covering the fabric thickly; Matsukawa fell on his knees as Hanamaki cried and cried, unable to do anything but squirm in anguish as he started bleeding out inside the trench. He was beyond distressed, and Mattsun knew nothing would be able to calm him down, but he tried anyway, talking calmly to his best friend, saying he would be okay, telling him he didn’t need a second arm, that two arms were for losers, things like that. His voice was shaking, and Tooru sprinted over to help, although his own hands were shaking beyond control upon seeing his friends in such a state.

 

When Oikawa rushed up on that scene…the horror of war really hit him.

 

Everything went silent as he stared at Matsukawa, who was desperately trying to stop the bleeding by wrapping up the wound with his own pantleg—the same Matsukawa who slept on public benches because socialization made him tired. The same Mattsun who strolled, never walked, never rushed, even when he was in a hurry. The same Mattsun who hilariously tried to understand what about his clothing didn’t suit him. And he was beside Hanamaki, the same pinkish haired boy who made stupid jokes, ganged-up on Oikawa during board games, liked to arm wrestle Iwaizumi even though he always lost.

They were the same people…right?

But they _couldn’t_ be. These people weren’t real. They were dirty, frantic, panicking, covered in blood and gun powder. They weren’t Tooru’s friends anymore. They weren’t anyone but faceless soldiers in the middle of the ranks, dealing with injuries of their own, fighting against their own brothers in the worst Japanese civil war in the entire history of Japan.

 

It didn’t make any sense to Tooru.

 

Like always, Oikawa woke-up silently. He didn’t scream, or cry, or even shed a single tear. Something was different this time because he didn’t remind himself that Hanamaki had survived, that they had all survived. He just slowly sat up in their bed, struggled to stand, and limped his way outside their tiny hut to stand in-between the homes in the dead of the night, all alone with his thoughts.

The cold air made him shiver, and Tooru leaned against the house for support, having not remembered to grab his crutches from the living room space; it didn’t really matter to him anyway. He knew his leg was damaged beyond repair. Leaning on those stupid crutches wouldn’t change that.

Oikawa stood there for a long moment, not thinking anything in particular; that was his heart’s defensive mode, and he knew better than to mess with it, but couldn’t help but think about how good it felt to be home. Home with Hajime. Home with the one person he came back to after all the fighting. Well, him and their ancient cat Mochi—he really missed that fluffy furball.

 _Who am I now?_ Tooru wondered, staring into the abyss. _I know who I was before, but who am I now? …Who do I WANT to be now?_

_I hardly know._

 

Footsteps behind him made the floorboards creak; he had a feeling Iwaizumi did that intentionally so he wouldn’t startle him. The gesture made his heart grow warm, and he let Hajime slide his arms underneath his own and force him to lean on the policeman for support, injured leg limply resting on Iwaizumi’s bare foot. How did he manage to be so _warm_? During the war, _nothing_ was warm; the sheets were always cold, uniforms were always cold, the food was always cold…Tooru really loved warmth, and so snuggled deeper into his boyfriend’s embrace.

They didn’t speak for a long time.

Hajime knew he wouldn’t be able to immediately fix the war going on inside Tooru’s brain and heart. He knew that very well. He had his own war to fight as well, but right now, Oikawa’s was more urgent. There had to be something they could do…something nice, something familiar. It was way too soon for sex. It was too soon for kissing, even. They couldn’t play volleyball…the record player was gone…

So what? What could they do to ease the pain?

“We should go to the beach.” Iwaizumi whispered.

“Hm?”

“The beach. Remember?”

“Yeah…” Tooru said quietly.

“Let’s go. Now. I’ll carry you.”

“O...Okay…”

 

Hajime stood back and heaved his boyfriend into his arms; he didn’t stumble once on their walk over to the nearby beach, and gently set Oikawa down in the warm sand, situating himself directly behind him and holding on tight as the waves sent comforting sounds through their bones. Tooru couldn’t remember a time the world had been so…quiet. It was nice. It was really really nice, being here with Iwaizumi. The last beach he had been to was quite a different scene, but he tried not to imagine it, and slid his fingers through Hajime’s to stop his worrying.

 

“There was a letter I didn’t send you,” Iwaizumi said after a while, mumbling directly in his boyfriend’s ear. “The third year, sometime in summer…”

“Why didn’t you send it?” Oikawa asked. Hajime knew those letters were what kept him going.

“I knew it would make you sad,” The policeman answered in shame. “I kept rambling on about this place, the beach…how we would run through the sand and dunk each other under the water…about the time when we were kids, how you almost actually drowned me and couldn’t stop crying and bringing me bugs for weeks after…I knew…I knew you would be able to tell…that I was crying the entire time I wrote it.”

Tooru squeezed Hajime’s hand even tighter, sniffling softly in the silence of the beach. Iwaizumi collected his words before speaking again.

“But I have a new letter, now…and I don’t think it’ll make you sad. Do you want to hear?”

Oikawa nodded wildly.

“Dear Tooru,” He began lowly. One of his hands slowly crept up to run up and down the soft skin of the soldier’s bare leg. “It’s three in the morning, and I’m at the beach. I brought Mochi along this time, because I don’t like being alone here; it’s too pretty of a place to be alone at. Moments like these are when I can feel you the most, even though we only have a few memories made here so far. We’ll have more in the near future, so I guess it’s nothing to worry about—maybe someday, we can get married on beach, so that our greatest memory will be of this place, only a few blocks away from our home, so we can visit it anytime we please.”

Oikawa sniffled harder, and felt Iwaizumi’s hand slide up to place his palm directly over his boyfriend’s heart.

“I know wherever you are, you can feel me just as much as I can feel you. That’s something that won’t ever change, I think…you’re my best friend, my partner, someone I can count on for anything, despite your occasional selfishness and annoying poses.” Hajime huffed with a smile. “I just wanted to share this moment with you, so that we can have something to talk about once we return to each other…I only have one more thing to say before ending this letter.”

 

The soldier turned his head to stare in awe at Iwaizumi.

 

“ _I love you_.” He whispered. “…Sincerely…Iwaizumi Hajime.”

 

_If I fall…_

_If I fall…_

_(Down)_

_At the end of the world,_

_Or the last thing I see_

_You are never coming home never coming home_

_Never coming home, never coming home_

_And all the things that you never ever told me_

_And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me_

_Never coming home, never coming home_

_Could I? Should I?!_

 

“ _Hajime_ …”

 

Tooru brought a hand up to softly cradle the policeman’s jaw as he laid a tearful, but incredibly happy kiss onto his lips. He could feel the heat, the passion he had longed for, wanted and searched for since the beginning of the war, when he first left his lover and everything else behind. He could _feel_ something. And he liked it. He _liked_ being able to feel again. It made him feel…human. Iwaizumi always made him feel that way.

The pair pulled away after a breathless minute of gentle kissing, eyes fluttering closed, despite their want to stare at each other till the end of time. Oikawa opened his eyes after feeling something hard poking against his lower back.

“Sorry,” Hajime blushed in embarrassment. “I haven’t…you know—been _intimate_ in like…four years.”

“Silly Iwa-chan,” Tooru smiled. “We’ll make-up for lost time soon.”

Iwaizumi took a moment to beam at the nickname and blush darker at the implication before shaking his head and hiding his face in Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Okay…” He mumbled shyly. “I look forward to it.”

“So naughty, Iwa-chan!”

“ _Me_?!”

Oikawa giggled and placed another kiss onto Hajime’s temple, playing with his hair as they went quiet and glanced back out at the never-ending water in front of them.

“This scene is a lot different than from the last beach I was at,” The soldier said thoughtfully. “…I like this one more, though.”

“Good,” Iwaizumi smiled. “Because it’s not the same without you. …Nothing is.”

 

Tooru smiled at that, turning around to lean his forehead against Hajime’s and pull him closer.

 

“I love you, Iwa-chan.” He said sincerely. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

Iwaizumi gave a huff of recovery from that sentence, and wrapped his arms around Oikawa again.

“I love you too, Tooru.”

He kissed the side of the soldier’s head and added a hushed whisper.

“ _Thank you for coming back to me_.”

_And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me,_

_For all the ghosts that are never gonna…_

 


End file.
